


Watch the time go

by Kairin16



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Internal Monologue, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairin16/pseuds/Kairin16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik just wanted to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch the time go

**Author's Note:**

> The piece is inspired by the song "In our bedroom after the war" by Stars and I strongly recommend to listen to it while reading.

The first thing he sees after waking are lashes and the vague contour of the nose. He knows who they belongs to and his logical mind is screaming at him to leave, it says that he shouldn't be here. But the bigger part of his brain is still mostly asleep and he doesn't want to move. Something deep inside him feels that is the place when he belongs, the place when he can be finally at peace and doesn't have to worry about anything.

Safe, treasured, loved.

No, he's not moving anywhere. But then, the eyelashes flutter and he's staring in the depths of the unfathomable blue, the most beautiful shade of sapphires he has ever seen. Something in his mind sparks, instinct to run, but he doesn't understand. Why should he run when he is safe here? Why should he leave the glorious person laying next to him when all he wants to do is bury his head in their chest and listen to the sound of their heartbeat?

The blue is watering and it reminds him of a sky and an ocean and a beach and there, just there somewhere is the reason of why he shouldn't be here. The person reaches their hand to his face and he realized that they're crying. No, that won't do. He doesn't want them to cry, they should be happy and content and safe. It's his job to ensure that. He hears a sob and then there lips covering his. Hmm. He must have projected that last thought out loud if Charles had heard him so strongly.

Charles.

Suddenly he remembers. Remembers the beach, his abandonment of this precious man, his cause and why they can't work together. Remembers why he came yesterday.

Wheelchair.

He didn't know. He didn't think that the bullet that didn't even enter into Charles' body would cause so much damage. They were on a run, looking for suitable headquarters between many of Shaw's possessions. And then he went to New York to purchase something important (no longer important, it should never be) and he heard a rumour. Young master of Westchester pinned to a wheelchair because of a car accident. No true, no true. HIS FAULT.

So he came. To see, to ensure. He hoped.... Maybe, it was just a rumour, not true, not true, please Gott, don't let it be true.

But there it was. Right next to a bed in which a figure slept. It stood as if mocking him, as if showing him what he did, of what he's guilty, what he lost. No, what he chose to abandon and forfeit, because of his mindless hatred.

He just wanted to look at him for one moment longer. He wouldn't come back again, not now, not ever. Not after what he caused, after all the hurt he brought on this beautiful man. Just let him look, one last time. Let him remember what he will never have again. Let him believe in all the sweet truths that stopped being truths the moment he chose to wear the helmet of his monstrous creator. He fell asleep.

He jumps out of the bed, but cannot move any further, because there's a hand stubbornly keeping grip on his tunic. He stays in place, coiled with all the unspoken words, he cannot bring himself to say (I'MSORRYI'MSORRYNEVERWANTEDTHISILOVEYOUIMISSYOUPLEASEFORGIVEME), but he doesn't move away. It would be unfair, seeing as Charles can't really follow him anymore. He should have never asked that of him anyway, even then, in all his anger and disappointment and the hollow feeling of accomplishing his goal and not knowing what now.

\- Erik. - Charles' voice is trembling and it sound unsure, shy, (scared) in a way it never have before. Always so cocky, so arrogant, but so earnest that it wasn't as grating as it could be. He glances at him and sees the crumbled, crying man. Alone and too proud too ask for support of his friends. Struggling to move on with his life despite everything that happened and failing and never, ever asking for help of people that he should be protecting. He sees his Charles at his worst as he had seen him at his best and he can't help but love him even more.

He moves closer to the man. He's not sure if what he's doing is right, but he can't leave. Not anymore. Not again. Even if he's going to be hated and shunned. (He deserves it, oh, how much he deserves it, he hopes that they will hate him, that Charles will) (NOPLEASENODON'T HATEMEPLEASENOFORGIVEMELOVEYOUSOMUCH) He lays right next to Charles and moves one of his hand to the man's heart and let the steady heartbeat soothe him.

Charles' smiling and his eyes shine and he looks beautiful. He keeps his hand tangled in purple tunic and his gaze firmly locked on their green counterparts. Erik closes his eyes and stays.


End file.
